Winter moonless night. You are in the remote Siberian taiga, the nearest village is no less than a hundred kilometers away. There's a snowstorm all around, you can't see a thing. Maddened by the cold and wind, you wander through the snow, without even hope of salvation. Suddenly you come out into a snow-covered clearing, in the center of which stands a hunting lodge, knocked together who knows when and abandoned. The gatehouse was clearly built to last for centuries; years (and most likely even decades) without a person had practically no effect on it. Overjoyed, you run inside. And then luck smiled at you again - inside you find miraculously not damp firewood. You light up the oven. Warm and cozy. After such a long journey, you fall asleep on a broken old bed.

...a monstrous female roar and powerful blows on the door wake you up in the dead of night. You open your eyes in horror, the sleep has vanished. The wood in the stove has long burned out, and your soul is again pierced by this bone-chilling cold. And that creature outside the window keeps knocking and swearing, and its swearing is unlike anything you’ve heard before. It doesn't even sound like a living creature. Angry and demanding, as if having absorbed the pain and despair of millions of people struggling in their death throes, it awakens in you something long forgotten, worn out by the passage of time, but still alive.

You understand that the only thing separating you from a terrible outcome in the stomach of a hungry creature is a half-decayed wooden door with a flimsy latch...

Suddenly a woman’s angry voice is heard from behind the door "Open the door for me, bitch! Or I'm not responsible for myself, this is my house!"